Chasing Paper Tigers Like Dreams
by Child of the Ashes
Summary: In which Orihime has trouble saying no and Ichigo doesn't.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Chasing Paper Tigers Like Dreams

Warnings: Language, mild angst.

Rating: T for now. M later.

**Authorial Notice:**

**Just a little something I'd been posting over at Tumblr. Thought I'd finish it all before I started posting, but alas, I really need some motivation ^_^ So here's the first chapter.**

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Orihime tried her hardest to stay out of his line of sight, she did, but it just didn't seem to matter. Trouble had locked on to her scent, and it was running her down like a dog cornering a cat up a tree.

She fought the urge to despair when the new part-time manager gazed across the busy employees, sifting through female after female.

It couldn't have been so difficult to pick her out. After all, she had all that bright, unusual colored hair. Even pulled back into a sloppy bun, it was easily distinguishable, and her curvy form didn't exactly fit in among her straighter, sleeker co-workers. Still, his eyes lingered down every form before settling on hers.

From across the table, Tenki-chan cast her a sympathetic glance before grabbing up the tray of dough she'd been forming and hurrying away.

Orihime took a deep breath and resigned herself to her fate, looking up to acknowledge her new boss, Ijimekko.

"Out of uniform again, Inoue-chan?"

He smiled, but his eyes dropped somewhere below her chin.

Orihime tried to determine what it was about this man that disturbed her. He was nice enough. Friendly. Intelligent. Maybe even somewhat attractive, with perfect, dark hair and eyes to match. So why did he strike her in such an uneasy way?

She resisted the urge to step back from his too close proximity and instead watched in wide-eyed fascination as his nostrils flared, making his once-broken nose seem a bit crooked.

Then his words registered.

Blinking, Orihime shook her head and looked down at the two unclasped buttons of her collar.

Could that be what he meant?

It didn't seem inappropriate. The store was so hot when the ovens were on, and even from her overhead vantage, she could hardly see the tops of her embarrassingly large breasts. There was no way he could, regardless of his tendency to tower over the employees of the bakery.

Orihime frowned, wrinkling her nose in thought. Her sleeves were rolled up, but that was necessary to keep them out of the food. That couldn't be the problem.

He laughed.

"I'm just teasing you. Those outdated, old hag shirts could stand to loosen up a bit, right?" Ijimekko winked and gave her a tap on the forearm, leaning a bit closer. "You can undo a few more if you want. It'll be our secret."

She swallowed, nodding just to get distance, and then she kicked herself for the thoughtless gesture.

But he did straighten, stepping out of her space, a smile lingering on his mouth and something else slithering behind his eyes.

Heads whipped around to their tasks and the silent kitchen buzzed back into activity when he turned around, walking toward the small office in the rear of the building.

Orihime released her breath.

"Oh, I can't believe that guy!" Tenki hissed into her ear. "He thinks he can walk all over us just because his daddy's the owner. What a spoiled brat. He doesn't even do any of the work."

Hmm?

Orihime tilted her head.

Brat? He could hardly be called that. Ijimekko had to be close to thirty.

Orihime turned and smiled at the smaller girl that reminded her so much of Chizuru. A much less_ grabby_ Chizuru, and the thought made her smile widen. "He's new here, Tenki-chan, just give him some time to adjust. I bet things get straightened out, yeah?"

But they didn't.

Orihime stiffened as, once again, his hand lingered on her shoulder.

It couldn't be necessary to explain how to wipe the front tables. She'd done it so many times and it wasn't even a difficult thing. Still, he placed his large, heavy hand over hers and used it to guide her motions, wiping the table in slow circles.

Deep under her skin, something twitched and rebelled.

Orihime pulled free of his grasp and took a large step back.

"I'm sorry, manager-san. I think I can do it right this time." She gave a small bow. "Thank you for the instruction."

He tilted his head.

"You're always so formal. What does it take to get you to relax?" He smiled. "I've asked you to call me by name several times."

Orihime dropped her gaze.

"I'm sorry, but you are my boss, after all. I… I don't feel comfortable being so familiar."

She tried to smile, but it froze on her face when she looked up.

"I see." His gaze was sharper than she had seen it, but the next moment his eyes crinkled much the way his father's did. "Well, I guess we'll just have to help you rethink that." He stood to his full height. "You know, this job might be too complicated for you. Go get a broom and sweep the snow off the front walk. We can't have our customers slipping, can we?"

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Ichigo huddled down into his fur-trimmed jacket, cursing when the bitter wind snapped at his exposed skin anyway. God, he hated this weather.

_Too damn cold._

Well, this was his reward for trying to spend a little time back home instead of holing up in his apartment. His ears were freezing and his cold toes ached like he'd just stubbed every single fucking one. And why his stupid old man wasn't the one out here getting his ass frostbitten off instead was little more than a blur of systematic and manipulative arguments Ichigo had struggled to process before finding himself on his family's snowy doorstep with a too thin coat being lobbed at his head.

He huffed, his breath turning into a curling, white cloud he scowled as he passed through.

That wasn't true.

He knew the reason he was making this trip, and it wasn't for his family or the food or any argument thereof.

He just needed to know she was okay.

Between the college workload and his _work_ workload, spending time with friends seemed more of a much-longed-for dream than reality. They were lucky to get once a month together since Uryu had jaunted off to some fancy college for brain surgeons in Tokyo. Although, Ichigo suspected there were other reasons for his bat out of hell escape from the nest. Daddy issues.

He shook his head.

Because he had room to talk.

His dad was a fucking piece of work. He knew Ichigo wouldn't say no to going to the bakery if it meant a chance to check up on Inoue. No matter how damn cold it was.

His brow furrowed and his hands tightened in his pockets.

She was the only member of their group he couldn't find a good excuse to see on a regular basis— at least not without seeming like some weirdo stalker— and the only one that could actually use some watching over. How messed up was that? He'd been a god-awful friend the past year since his internship started. He needed to make up for it.

Coming around the corner of the shop, Ichigo faltered when he was confronted with the object of his thoughts.

"_Inoue.._."

Orihime squeaked and stumbled back, clutching her broom as if she might whack him with it before realizing who it was and nearly dropping it.

He scratched his head. "Hey."

"K-Kurosaki-kun! What are you doing here?"

Something jolted inside his chest, same as always, and he was floored by the sight of her.

Like grabbing a hot wire. Adrenaline flooded into his blood, carried by his thumping heart and the cold dissipated from tingling limbs.

Bright, honey-colored eyes shone with warm light, wide with surprise and open interest. Her lips were still parted in a silent gasp and tendrils of auburn hair fell in picture-perfect disarray around her face. And she so contrasted the white of snow and muted city tones around them, she might as well have stumbled out of a different plane of existence.

She still had this effect on him after so many years. Why, he couldn't fathom, but it'd been that way since the first time he saw her standing in his doorway, carrying her bleeding brother.

Ichigo let his eyes travel the rest of her, confirming that she was both unhurt and in good health. His shoulders relaxed.

_Although_…

She sure as hell wasn't going to stay that way in this weather. Her cheeks were wind-burned, and she was rubbing her now empty and slightly blue hands together, shaking.

"Inoue, where's your damn _coat_? It's below freezing."

"Um…" She rubbed her arms, looking embarrassed. "It's not part of my uniform…"

He was already shrugging out of his own coat, pausing at her words before tugging it the rest of the way off and holding it out to her. "What the hell kind of rule is that? They can't make you go out in this kind of weather without even a jacket, Inoue. It's not legal."

Orihime didn't argue with him as he expected. That told him more about the state she was in than anything.

Her fingers shook as she fumbled trying to get them through the sleeves.

He cursed again and took her arm, pulling her freezing hand out, fighting the irritated words threatening to spill out. Looking over through the store window, he saw a tall man issuing orders to a girl that seemed ready to break into tears. Really? That's so much more important than noticing Inoue was about to catch hypothermia?

"Who is that?"

Glancing over, Orihime stiffened before moving to retrieve her broom so she could begin sweeping again. "The new manager, Ijimekko-san. He graduated a few years ago and is taking over while Owner-san is sick."

She forced the words past chattering teeth and that just pissed him the hell off. He didn't care who the prick was, he was fixing to get a piece of Ichigo's goddamn mind. Maybe his foot.

He pulled the broom from Inoue's slack grip and pointed toward the store. "_You're_ the one who's going to get sick, you need to go inside."

"But I can't! I have to sweep the snow so that the customers don't fall."

She attempted to grab back the handle.

Holding it out of Inoue's frantic reach, Ichigo stared at her, and realizing she wasn't lucid, he forced himself to speak evenly.

"Inoue, it's snowing. There will always be snow on the ground, and when it stops, the wind will blow it away because it's below fucking freezing. This is _ridiculous_." Then something occurred to him and his eyes narrowed. "How long have you been out here?"

Beside them, the doorbell chimed and his head snapped to the side.

"Inoue-chan, what's this?" The man from before stepped out of the store. "You know we don't allow socializing on the job, and once again, you're out of uniform." He inspected the coat then Ichigo with the same curl of his lip he might have given something stuck in the bottom of a trashcan. "Go back inside. We only exhibit the goods inside the shop, not on the street corner."

Ichigo went still.

It took about two heartbeats to comprehend the situation and far less to slam a clenched fist straight into the slimy prick's misshapen nose.

It was a solid hit. Blunt. Soothing his rapidly fraying temper.

The punch lifted the man off his feet and sent him careening backward. Leather dress shoes scraped the ground before gravity caught and his back hit the concrete, sprawling him out across the snow-covered ground, choking and sputtering as the air was forced from his lungs.

Ichigo straightened.

"Manager-san!" Orihime hesitated, looking back at Ichigo and biting her lip. "Kurosaki-kun?"

"Get your things."

He didn't let anything show on his face. Not the contempt he felt for the lowlife clutching his bleeding face. Not the frustration of wondering how long it had been going on. And definitely not the rage clawing its way up, screaming at him to keep hitting the stupid fuck until he stopped making noise.

Ijimekko pushed himself up, spitting out a mouthful of blood and ignoring what fell onto his white shirt. "Yeah, you can get your things. You're fired."

Orihime stopped in her tracks.

"What…?" She turned over her shoulder then shook her head, eyes wide. "But, but I need this job…"

"Then I guess you should have thought about that before your boyfriend here started throwing punches."

Ichigo grit his teeth.

Damn it… He hadn't meant to get her fired, but he couldn't stomach her begging to this creep.

"But—"

"_Inoue_."

She stopped, eyes shining with moisture as they turned back to meet his. Then she bit her lip, gaze falling to the ground as she hurried to get her things.

Ichigo didn't move. He just stared the man down, fists clenching, knowing that if the bastard so much as took a step forward, he wouldn't be responsible for his actions.

Orihime came out the next minute, her own coat on and clutching his to her chest.

Not that he needed it. His anger was keeping him warm, and if he needed some physical exertion, he knew where to find it.

She stopped beside him, lifted a hand, not quite touching.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

He only hesitated a moment before tearing his eyes off the bleeding man and taking her outstretched arm, leading her away, hardly able to see where he was going he was so pissed. They were three blocks away before he realized he was dragging her along in a tight grip.

Ichigo stopped walking. He took a deep breath, releasing her and running the freed hand over his face.

"Just what—" He bit his hasty words off, took a deep breath, and tried again. "How long has that been going on?"

Ichigo looked back when she didn't answer, only to find her eyes full of tears that looked dangerously close to falling.

"H-hey… don't—"

She drew a shaky breath and he flinched, scowling and looking away.

"I don't know what to do…" Orihime swiped at her eyes. "If I don't work the rest of the week, I won't be able to make rent. And… And I'm already late, I don't think Kirumi-san will wait any longer."

His brain stalled.

Not making rent? Since when? And why the hell hadn't she said something? He wasn't exactly hurting for money. His own rent was paid months in advance. If she'd just asked he would have—

Ichigo shoved a hand through his hair.

That was the problem. She wouldn't have asked. Orihime would let herself be thrown out onto the street first, and now, thanks to him, that was probably just what was going to happen._ Dammit… _Why did these messed up situations always seem to find Inoue? She didn't deserve this shit.

"What about your aunt? I thought she was sending you money while you're in school."

She shook her head. "Only during high school. It was already such a huge burden on her, I couldn't ask for more than that."

And Orihime smiled, all sparkling, teary eyes and brave, soft smiles.

Seeing that look, made his bones ache with some unnamed emotion.

"She's been very kind to me, but she and my mother and father weren't close."

He nodded, hearing what she didn't say. Her parents hadn't been congenial members of society.

"Alright. How much do you need?"

She jerked. "Eh!? What…? I can't take y-your money, Kurosaki-kun. That's—"

"Inoue, I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to do it. I have the money… Or dad has it, I just need to get my check, but it's there."

She shook her head, vehement.

"Look, if it bothers you that much you can pay me back."

Like hell. But she didn't need to know that.

Still, Orihime looked uncertain.

He sighed. "What else are you going to do?"

"I…" She bit her lip. "I don't know. You're right..." Orihime squeezed her eyes shut and clutched small fists under her chin. "But… But I promise to pay you back! As soon as I find a new job I'll give it back to you."

"Sure thing..."

Ichigo waved a blood-speckled hand vaguely, dismissing anymore talk of repayment before it was lodged too far into her brain. Then he started back toward the clinic, waiting until she was beside him before crossing the street and finally taking back his coat.

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Orihime wanted to die.

She sat in a waiting room chair attempting to be as small as possible, and trying not to look as if she was listening in on their conversation. Which was difficult because Ichigo was using full volume.

"What do you mean you aren't paying me this week!?" Ichigo's palm slammed into the tabletop. "Damn it, old man, this is important!"

Stealing a look from under her lashes, she watched Isshin Kurosaki glare back at his son, arms crossed, and stubborn frown in place.

"Then I guess you should have thought about that before you didn't show up for work. You're a terrible employee, you know." He thought then added. "And you forgot my delicious sweet-bread..."

"_You_ said to take off and focus on my exam…" Ichigo's voice dropped into a dark growl as he leaned over his father's desk. "And I already told you why I didn't get your precious bread. Are you really going to let Inoue sleep on the street just so you can act like a damn kid?"

Orihime flinched.

Isshin arched a brow. "Of course not."

"Good. Nice to see you have _some_ sense—"

"Orihime-chan is welcome to stay here with me."

He winked at her and flashed a dazzling smile. One that was certain to send Ichigo straight up the wall.

Ichigo twitched, fists clenching and cracking as he squeezed his eyes closed and drew in on himself.

Orihime tensed in preparation of the impending explosion.

"Like hell I'd let her stay with you, pervert!" He swiped a hand through the air. "Forget it!"

Ichigo fumed by, throwing open the door and stomping out.

Orihime jumped from her chair, and gave Isshin a quick bow before hurrying after his son, calling over her shoulder, "It was good to see you again, Kurosaki-san!"

Isshin waved, grinning. "Stop by anytime, Orihime-chan."

Ichigo was waiting for her at the corner, still cursing under his breath.

She bit her lip when she reached him. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble. I didn't mean to bother you with any of this."

"You don't bother me, Inoue."

He stared across the street, mouth tense, seeming to contemplate something difficult. Then he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, throwing her a quick, assessing look— a flash of scorching amber— before glaring at something to the side.

"You can stay with me."

Orihime froze, mouth open, a flurry of tiny butterfly wings stirring inside her stomach.

"_I mean_…" He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "If you _want_ to. If you feel _comfortable_…" Those eyes again. "I'd like you to stay with me."

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**A/N**

**Yup, a roommate story! XD I'll try and post this up as its finished. And to those of you that already read my first horrid attempt, I'm hoping you liked the edited version better :)**

**Sorry to be MIA for so long. I've been working on some art and a few other things. So feel free to visit my deviantArt page if you'd like or join my IchiHime group Black Moon White Sun, yes? ^_^ Maybe? No? Lol. That's okay, but how about a review? :D**


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Chasing Paper Tigers Like Dreams

Warning: Language, lime-ish-ness maybe... sort of...

Rating: M

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_Inoue Orihime was his new roommate... _

Even after a week, he didn't really believe it.

Ichigo glanced up from his laptop, flicking his gaze over the bar to the auburn-haired girl scrubbing his small kitchen, nowhere near close to being able to concentrate.

She had on a pair of his headphones, half sweeping, half twirling around the small space, looking as if she enjoyed the task far too much for Ichigo's comfort. Her hair was pulled up and the oversized shirt did nothing to disguise the soft curves hiding underneath it… or that slim waist he could spam with one palm, those damn sleep shorts…

Ichigo shook his head, turning back to his paper.

And he _was not_ thinking she had great legs—

The pencil he'd been chewing snapped in his grasp and he cursed, tossed it into the pile and grabbed a new one.

He flipped the pages of his scribbled notes, stared at the computer sitting on the coffee table in front of him, and focused on the paper he was supposed to be writing.

Or he _tried_.

This was surreal. More like an elicit fantasy than something he woke up to every morning. And he didn't need to be thinking these things. She had enough men willing to act inappropriately, follow her around and generally make creepy assholes out of themselves. It'd been that way since high school, and he'd be damned if he was going to be one of them.

Chad had helped move her in, thankfully not saying a word about how weird it was likely to be. The Mexican giant just grunted, shrugged, and started loading boxes into the car. And Ichigo found himself on the couch the next morning, confused until his memories resurfaced, and he remembered forcing her to take his room since it was only a one bedroom apartment.

But despite his father actually holding up his end and paying him again, Ichigo hadn't mentioned the possibility of moving her out and she hadn't brought it up. Almost an unspoken truce of sorts.

He liked having her there, even if it was awkward sharing personal space, and it seemed she felt the same way. Things weren't so quiet. It'd been hard for him to be alone after spending the first twenty years with such a noisy family. He wondered how she'd managed it for so long.

But she'd slipped in with him seamlessly enough, even taking to cleaning the apartment, insisting that she needed to pay him back and refusing to listen to his objections. It was only once he realized the extent of her need and her fear of being useless, that he finally caved. If it made her feel better to clean, he wouldn't stop her. And it was just a bonus that it cleared up a few minutes of free time he hadn't had in months.

But sharing such a small space, having her cleaning and doing laundry. It was… _strange_. It blurred lines in his mind that shouldn't be blurred.

In the kitchen, Orihime yawned as she put the cleaning supplies away and stretched, arms overhead, arching her spine before pulling off the headphones.

His eyes snapped back to his screen, but he heard every step of her approach.

"How's your paper coming along?"

Ichigo glanced down at his word count and grimaced.

"I think I'm shot for tonight." He sighed and leaned back to stretch his own sore muscles. "What about you?"

Her cheeks were flushed when he looked up and he frowned, wondering if she had overworked herself.

"Umm… W-well, I have a small essay left, but I'm sure I'll have it done before morning!"

His frown deepened as he took in his spotless kitchen behind her.

"Aren't you pushing yourself too hard? I know long nights are part of the deal, but you've had three this week. I don't want you exhausted just to take care of my cleaning."

Inoue bit her lip, head ducking. "Well, I would've started earlier. It's just... There's a bakery on the other side of town, and I went to apply. I really want to pay you back."

Her fingers twisted together, turning white then red from the force of her grip.

The other side of town? That was almost a forty-five minute walk. And she couldn't have taken a bus or a cab because she'd cleared her bank account to pay what she could to her landlord, and flat out refused to take any extra money from him.

"You aren't going to pay me back if you drop dead from overwork." It was a dirty trick, considering he had no intention of taking any payment. "Look, if you have an interview that far away again, tell me. I can borrow dad's car and drive you next time."

"R-really…? B-but I don't want you to go to any trouble… I've already caused enough problems taking up all your space and making you feed me—"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "You do the cooking, Inoue. _You're_ feeding _me_."

"But you do the shopping!"

She wasn't about to be out done, so he dropped it, standing instead, frowning when she took a large step back.

Her eyes were big, hands drawn up to her chest and he could see her pulse beating under the soft skin of her neck. There was a particular sort of nervous energy coming off her that tightened his gut.

Ichigo cleared his throat.

"Just… Just don't overdo it. Why don't you cool the job search for a little while? Just until exams are over," he added, seeing her mouth open to protest. And because he seemed to be full of dirty tricks anymore, added, "It would make me feel better."

That ended it.

She smiled, head tilting, knowing he was pulling the manipulation card and letting him get away with it anyway.

"Alright, Kurosaki-kun… But only until exams are finished."

He smiled, relaxing tense shoulders as he closed his laptop before heading toward the shower, taking one last peek back to see her settling in with her books.

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Orihime yawned looking down over her completed report before clicking the send button.

And…_ Finished! _

_Bonzai!_

She threw her arms up, giving herself an imagined pat on the back. Done with just enough time to dress and get to her morning class.

She smiled and climbed off Ichigo's bed, fixing the blankets so that they once again lay flat.

_Ichigo's bed… _Her face heated.

No, Orihime! You've been sleeping here for a week. It's not that big of a deal anymore! _But it was_. The bed smelled like him. Everything smelled like him. Her clothes in his closet, her hair, _her_—

She couldn't breathe. Her chest hitched and she doubled over. She had to stop thinking. Oh, when would this wear off?

Covering her face with her palms, she groaned silently into her hands then sighed, dropping them. Was she really going to go through this every morning?

She hoped not.

She was in her third year of college. She was a mature adult female who just happened to be staying with a mature adult Kurosaki-kun with no one to stop them from doing mature adult things—_Ahh! No. Stop right there. Bad, Orihime!_

She wasn't going down that road again. Please, not again…

If she kept this up, he was going to think she was on drugs.

Orihime checked the side table clock. There was just enough time for her to get ready before running out the door, if she was lucky, with breakfast. And since it was Tuesday, Ichigo would already be gone, meaning she wouldn't be a frantic mess trying to avoid him.

She gave another despairing sigh.

Kurosaki-kun was… well, _unbelievably_ good-looking in the morning. It made her heart hammer and caused those darn butterflies to act up deep in the pit of her stomach. She almost couldn't face him. All that messy, tousled hair. Heavy, dark lashes. The thoughtless, lazy grace of his movements.

Orihime _had_ to stare, she couldn't help it.

So she'd taken to keeping her head down, stumbling about, trying to get ready around him without making a complete klutz of herself.

Shaking from her thoughts, she undressed and slipped a robe on, determined to find some coffee to keep her awake before doing anything else.

Padding into the living area, she stopped upon seeing the mass of blankets still huddled on the couch. Orihime tilted her head to the side, examining the pile for movement before spotting the soft rise and fall of breathing.

Ichigo was curled on his side, facing the back cushions with the covers nearly over his head.

She straightened, biting her lip.

Kurosaki-kun wasn't supposed to be here. He had a class starting in under an hour.

Maybe he was sick…

No. He'd been fine last night. She'd even heard him leave to exterminate hollows. He must have just over slept.

Her shoulders slumped at the thought of waking him from such a peaceful slumber, but she couldn't very well leave him there to sleep through the entire day.

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There was something poking at his shoulder.

Drifting up from the deep well of sleep, Ichigo tried to pin down just how much he hated waking up to his father's many grating, infuriating, madness inducing tortures, but found it was impossible to put into words.

God, he was tired…

All he wanted was a few more minutes. A few more minutes with his head on his pillow, and with the world and its waking responsibilities far away.

Up half the night killing hollows and besides that, he'd already saved the whole goddam world twice-over. Now, all he wanted was a little rest. Was that too much to ask? And why couldn't anything wait until a decent fucking hour?

Zangetsu_.._. He would trade Zangetsu, Soul Society and it's hellish list of never-ending problems. He didn't care if they called him a traitor and threw him in a dark cell somewhere, just _please god,_ let it have a bed.

He growled, turning into his pillow and burrowing deeper into the blankets.

The nudging stopped.

Good. Let that be a lesson to the bastard, he thought, starting to drift back into slumber only to be prompted awake again with more insistence.

Ichigo grit his teeth. _Just ignore him… Ignore him and he'll go away..._ Although that particular course of action had never worked before.

Nudge.

Nudge, nudge.

Just ignore—

Shake. Shake. Shake. Shake—

His eyes flew open and he snarled. "_Damn it, old man!_"

Ichigo twisted, throwing the blankets off and latching on to his father's wrist and clothes, hauling him up into the air, completely prepared to toss him through the wall behind the couch— Only something was wrong. The weight he was lifting was almost nonexistent, and there was a soft, feminine squeak, and instead of meeting his father's idiot grin, Inoue was gaping down at him, dumbfounded, perched on top of his leg, mouth open and flailing her one free arm in the air.

They regarded each other with identical expressions of shock a split second before gravity took over, and she crashed down on top of him.

He gave a muffled oomph as her knee caught his unprotected stomach, the other thankfully coming down by the back of the couch, one palm landing by his head and the other bracing on his chest.

His hands gripped her middle, and he was immensely glad they hadn't clutched at anything… perilous.

Although, this wasn't much better.

He could feel her small ribs under his fingers and she straddled his waist where his shirt had ridden up, the hot flesh between her legs pressed flush against his bare stomach. And he suddenly realized she wasn't wearing anything but a robe.

A thin, gaping robe.

And that was bare skin to skin contact.

His body reacted, but not in the way he would have preferred.

Blood poured south, lighting up every nerve ending along the way, and adrenaline surged through his limbs much the same way it did before a fight.

His stomach clenched against the instinctive stab of desire and Orihime gasped.

_Shit! _He was afraid to move. And somehow his hands had slid down to her hips and were kneading the firm skin there and _fuck, fuck, fuck…_

_No touching!_

He snatched his hands back and looked up at Orihime.

She was panting, flushed with healthy color. Her chest kept rising and falling, tempting him to drop his gaze. He didn't, certain that crossing that boundary would be a point of no return. But now, he didn't know what to do. He fought to keep himself still, not to grind up into the soft curve of her backside that was so, so _close_ to his waiting erection.

Ichigo swallowed and licked his lips, attempting to heave his mind back toward safer thoughts. "Are you okay?"

He almost groaned when she mirrored his action, wetting her own lips before speaking, she blinked up from his mouth.

"You're going to be late."

_Huh? _

He stared at her, waiting for the nonsensical words to register.

"O-Okay. Can you… Do you think you can get off me?" He swallowed. "_Please_."

God damn it, he sounded fucking desperate.

"Oh!"

Orihime scrambled off him.

He looked away as she stood, trying not to think about the view he'd have if he didn't.

And then she left him there, fleeing back to the room and slamming the door.

Ichigo took a deep breath, trying to calm his restless thoughts and racing heart and wondering _what in the hell _had just happened_._

No. _No_. Don't think about it. It was an accident. That was all, and the faster he put it out of his mind, the faster he could get control of his body. He'd just have to beg forgiveness for the next month, because if he'd actually managed that maneuver, there was no doubt he would have hurt her. Severely.

With an aggravated sigh, he ripped the blankets the rest of the way off and headed toward the shower, glad to make it without further complication. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, then flicked the lock as an afterthought.

Ichigo pulled his shirt off and paused, raising a hand to the still burning, damp skin of his lower stomach. His frustrated erection gave an angry pulse.

When he lifted his fingers, he could see the slight wetness on the tips. He drew his bottom lip into his mouth, dragging his tongue over it before swallowing.

He knew in that second that if he so much as touched himself, he'd come in his hand.

It was tempting. But not as tempting as she had been.

_Shit_.

.

.

**A/N**

**And... chapter two! Yay! Naughtiness abounds. My poor Ichigo. He's in denial.**

**Thanks a million and one half to my awesome reviewers:**

**SkinnyMoose, StarFlake000, Bridge2thePast, Vodka21, sweet-penelope, sashikibuta, Ermilus, Renee Tanaka, Dreigo, keiko-uchiha, Bobbie, chibisamasempai20, Squizzy-Taylor, AbaraiArekushisu, SpringBlossom4112, somber girl, halfdemonfan, RainingLight1, MetalHead0801, Ayaka Rain, Star Slightly To The Right, JAB9689, Czexy, JustDance3Fan, Tea In Sugar, sunflowerspot, nypsy.  
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**You guys are so good to me :)  
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	3. Chapter 3

Title: Chasing Paper Tigers Like Dreams

Rating: M

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_No touching!_

Ichigo jerked away, back hitting the wall. His fists clenched at his sides with the effort it took not to reach out and grab Inoue as she stumbled.

He released the air trapped in his lungs when she caught herself.

Damn. He hadn't meant to startle her. He just wasn't paying attention coming down the hall. He wasn't used to having to avoid someone else yet.

Although, how any male could be stupid enough to forget they were sharing a small space with someone like Inoue… Ichigo shook his head.

Inoue ducked her shoulders, and flushed. "S-sorry, Kurosaki-kun, I was thinking about something else."

"That's okay… Me too, I guess."

She glanced up from under her lashes, started to speak then bit her lip, looking away.

He waited to see if she'd say anything else, anything that would break the unnatural stalemate that had settled between them, but the silence stretched. His shoulders sank as he stepped to the side, gritting his teeth and watching the carpet as she hurried by.

_Damn it._

_What are you waiting for? Say something to her about it already. Two words. Two fucking words. I'm sorry. How hard was that?_

Ichigo blew his breath out, turned and headed into the room to dig for a change of clothes, slamming the drawer shut.

_You really are an idiot._

The past few days since the incident on the couch, it was as if they'd both been struck mute. There wasn't a single decent conversation between them, and anytime they ended up alone, there had been a surprising number of reasons to be elsewhere.

Ichigo closed the bathroom door behind him, shedding his clothes, tossing his badge on the counter before stepping into a hot shower. He scrubbed the tension away from tight muscles, scouring his scalp with blunt nails until it tingled.

Shutting off the water, Ichigo opened the cabinet to grab a towel and blinked when he saw they'd been folded into an assortment of fluffy swans.

Okay. That was unexpected. But he supposed, most things about Inoue were.

He scowled and grabbed one, drying off with quick movements. This was stupid. They weren't going to have a fucking standoff over this… whatever it was between them.

Tugging his sleep clothes on, Ichigo stomped into the living room, fully intending to face this new problem head on. Only to find Inoue on the couch, attention fixed to the television.

She jumped when he stopped beside her and blushed, standing and flipping it off.

"Sorry. You're probably tired." She bit her lip as her color deepened. "I'll let you—"

"Not really."

"Huh?"

"I'm not tired."

Ichigo scratched his forehead with a finger when she blinked up, eyes wide.

"What were you watching?"

"Uh, well… It's nothing Kurosaki-kun would be interested in." She waved her hands, almost crimson by that point. "We can watch something else."

He glanced at the blank TV then back to the fidgeting girl in front of him. "What was it?"

"High School for Zombies …"

"Really?"

Ichigo didn't know what he'd expected her to say, but that wasn't it. Maybe a chick flick or something. Was this really the same girl that ate banana sandwiches and folded his laundry into hideously cute animals?

Not to mention they practically lived High School for Zombies.

"We can watch something else," she offered again.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow then reached down and flicked the movie back on, settling into the sofa. When she didn't move, he looked up.

"Don't you want to finish it?"

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Just sit down already. You're missing that guy getting his brain eaten."

Inoue dropped to the couch without further prompting, riveted.

He smirked.

"So… horror films?"

Orihime nodded. "Since I was little."

"I didn't know that."

She sniffed. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Kurosaki-kun."

He eyed her from across the couch.

"Such as?"

Orihime tilted her head to the side and pressed a finger to her lips. "Um, well… Did you know that I wanted to be an astronaut?"

"Like in outer space?"

He was smiling now. He couldn't help it. That was just such an _Inoue_ thing to say.

"Yup. Actually, there were lots of things I wanted to do, and I could never decide between them. There was only one thing I wanted to stay the same."

He blinked. "What's that?"

She smiled and shook her head. "It's a secret."

Her lashes fanned her cheeks as she stared at her toes, long strands of soft auburn hair dripped over small shoulders, coiling against the couch.

"If you keep that up, I'm going to think I don't know you at all."

He was only half joking, but she twisted a serious face and nodded, sticking out a hand.

"Inoue Orihime, junior space cadet."

He snorted and reached over to take it, ignoring the pleasant tingle that shot up his arm.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, substitute shinigami," he said, feeling his lips twitch upward. "Although, I should tell you up front, I'm a dangerous person to know."

"Oh, really?" She laughed the easy sound of it rolling over him.

He turned back to face the television, nodding.

"Sure I am. I chase monsters with a giant sword. I have a midget sidekick that can't draw. I piss people off, _a lot_, and my allies seem just about as likely to kill me as my enemies. People I know get kidnapped or stabbed… or killed." He paused, voice turning quieter. "And sometimes, I turn into a monster too."

His eyes dropped while he spoke and he swallowed then tried to recapture his earlier mirth only to have it slip through his fingers. "Maybe you wouldn't want to be my friend, after all."

Orihime was still. He couldn't even hear her breathing. Just when she opened her mouth to speak, he cut her off.

"I killed her, you know." Ichigo glanced up, barely having time to read her stunned expression before turning away again. "My mother. She would still be alive if I hadn't been born."

Beside him, Inoue made a noise. Her arms wrapped tighter around her legs.

"That… That can't be true. If it's true… then I killed my brother too. After everything he did for me… It can't be true. I don't want it to be true."

He turned to see her eyes shining and wet

The hell was he thinking saying that to her? Hadn't she been through just as much? _She_ had been targeted and hunted, because of _him,_ because of her association with him and his dangerous, catalytic riatsu, and just plain bad fortune.

She licked her lips.

"If you hadn't been born, what would have happened to all the people you saved? Kuchiki-san, Soul Society and Karakura Town… me? If you hadn't been there, Sora-nii would have eaten me. But by that logic, I shouldn't have existed in the first—"

His hand clenched on his leg.

"_Stop_."

He closed his eyes, kicked himself for his ineloquent words, and waited.

Ichigo waited for her to say something, because he knew if she wanted, Inoue could reach down through the razorblade-leaden fog he'd created in his mind and draw him out again. It was a stupid amount of faith to place on another person, but if someone as pure and decent and kind as Inoue saw something worthwhile in him, then maybe he could too.

She took a breath and just like he knew she would, flipped his world on its side.

"When Sora-nii died, people used to say that as long as you remember someone they're never really gone. But… But I don't think that's right." She paused, brows drawn down in concentration. "I mean, I still remember him, but I'll never remember everything. I remember his smile and his voice, the way he loved the dragonflies in summer. But that's not all of him. He was a hundred other things I've already forgotten. Things that made him who he was…" She swallowed. "So, in that way, he really is gone."

Ichigo's heart was like jagged steel in his chest, piercing him every time he moved or breathed or _thought_.

Her voice was soothing in the quiet, almost lulling. "Do you think we'll see them again?"

"I don't know."

Orihime nodded, resting her head on the back of the couch and turning to look at him.

He would have thought it'd be strange to have her full attention focused on him in such an intimate and small space, but it wasn't. It was.. It just… _fit_. It shouldn't have been all that strange. Orihime fit with anyone, got along with everyone.

Still, some part of him insisted it was different between them. Special. And there was a flickering measure of hope, quiet, unnoticed and unintentional, hiding somewhere deep inside his thoughts.

He stilled, unprepared for that revelation.

Did he have feelings for Inoue?

Ichigo looked over as if he expected Orihime to have heard his thoughts… only to find her eyes closed.

He blinked and then leaned forward, whispering, "Inoue?"

Her face was peaceful. Dark lashes on silken skin, smooth, pale, _delicate_. There were bruised circles under her eyes, worrying, but not serious. He could see the shadow of veins in her neck, the pulse at the base of her throat, her shoulders, rising and falling in a constant, gentle motion.

Without realizing it, he'd leaned closer, close enough to smell her scent, close enough to see each individual hair brushing the side of her face.

Stopping inches away, eyes falling to her lips as he licked his own, Ichigo wrestled with himself.

Then he laughed, short, sharp, and it wasn't really a laugh at all.

He sighed, a little disappointed he wasn't more of a bastard. Ichigo slid his arms under her before he could rethink the action.

Lifting Orihime, he carried her to his room and tucked her into bed, shaking his head again before turning to leave. He stopped at the door, hesitating before shutting himself out.

No touching.

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.

**A/N**

**A shorter chapter, I'm sorry, but it was a good place to leave off and with any luck, I'll get another chapter out soon :) And I promise to make it a good one ^^  
**

**And my ever undying love to the following people that reviewed chapter two:  
**

**sweet-penelope, JAB9689, Arrankor, Dreigo, Renee Tanaka, Star Slightly To The Right, c83gilles, DeathBerryLover1995, MetalHead0801, Maresia Eterna, Aiasaka, sunflowerspot, halfdemonfan, SingingButterflyRose, AbaraiArekushisu, nypsy , RainingLight1, AyakaRain, Damaio The End, Veraozao, Xtremefairy, Czexy, Tea In Sugar, from here to the moon, Ermilus, sashikibuta, Pchan712, HeartsAlign, Snoozefest , Aiko1991, lackadaffodil, foxfang27 annnnnnd lyerlaboys1 who I forgot to mention last chapter. I'm sorry! **

**My beautiful, sweet, darlings... \(╥_╥)/ Let me love on you!  
**

**Ahhhhhhh! Would it have been creepy to have Ichigo kiss her while she's asleep? I really wanted to, but I thought he probably wouldn't do that. I just don't know... *sobs*  
**


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Chasing Paper Tigers Like Dreams

Rating: M

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A few days later, Orihime stood confused, watching in silence as Ichigo closed the front door behind him.

It was the third morning in a row that he had woken, dressed, gathered his things, and left, sparing the bare minimum of conversation. It wasn't the same as the awkward silence from before. This was different. Ichigo was being elusive. She hadn't seen that side of him in a while.

But the problem was obvious.

_She_ was the only thing in the apartment he could be running away from. Everything else in it belonged to him, except for her few personal possessions.

Orihime reached down to tuck her books into her bag, turning to retrieve her coat before following the same way Ichigo left.

She had worn out her welcome. He was getting tired of her.

It was only natural. She'd been taking up his space for almost three weeks now. Anyone would feel put out to shoulder someone else that long. She'd kept their agreement to focus on schoolwork while testing was going on, but this morning was her final exam. It was time to refocus on finding work. That way she could give him back his space and stop straining their friendship with her silly daydreams.

It hurt, though. Knowing she was making him uncomfortable. Orihime didn't like being a burden or forcing him to take care of her.

She would have to work _harder_ to make sure she didn't inconvenience him.

There had to be something she could do to find a job quickly. Perhaps, she was being too fussy, waiting for a bakery job. She enjoyed it, yes, but at this point, she couldn't afford to sort through her options. Some of her classmates had jobs waitressing. Maybe if she asked around, she could find an opening. Just until a better job came up. And she could do something nice for Kurosaki-kun. A surprise to make up for the trouble she'd put him through.

Orihime twisted her bag strap between her fingers as she took the stairs, thinking.

There weren't many options. She had no money. No special skills besides what came from her hairclips.

She bit her lip.

She really was useless to him, wasn't she? No wonder he didn't want her around— _No_. What was she thinking? That wasn't true. They were friends. Good ones.

She refused to be a burden. He wouldn't be held back because of her inadequacies.

She _would_ find a job today. It didn't matter what it was. Then she would scrub his apartment until it sparkled... And maybe she could make a special dinner or help him study or take over hollow duties—_Err..._ Or not. He probably wouldn't like her doing that, but a meal, that was a start.

Of course, she cooked dinner almost every night, but what about something different. Normal. She knew some of his favorite dishes and it wouldn't be hard to have it ready by the time he got home from his shift at the clinic.

She smiled as she reached the bottom step of the apartments, smiling at a group of children passing by on their way to school.

_Okay, new day... I'm ready._

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Ichigo sat in the library, plowing down text after text before reaching the end of the page, only to realize he had no idea what he'd just read.

He made a disgusted noise and tossed the book away, leaning back in his chair.

They needed to dust the lights. Cobwebs hung like wispy ropes tied from one fixture to the next, and he strung them into patterns and shapes before huffing and turning back to the table. Damn, he was bored. The stretching quiet of the library was starting to grate on his nerves.

All his testing had been finished. Classes were ending. Even work in the clinic was dragging on, nothing more exciting than a cold or broken toe in the past two days. That took about five seconds to diagnose. The paperwork took more time than the treatment. He was half-tempted to tell them to stop whining and go crawl back into bed.

Of course, that would defeat the whole purpose. Without patients, he wasn't pulling a paycheck, and wasn't that how he ended up in this situation in the first place?

He sighed and tapped his fingers into the chair as the closing announcement echoed overhead.

Standing and stuffing his books in his bag, he glanced down at his watch. It was nearing eleven now, with any luck Orihime would be asleep by the time he made it back and he could avoid another problematic encounter. If he wasn't lucky, she'd be waiting up.

Ichigo hit the exit bar and let himself out of the library.

Why was it hollows only seemed interested in attacking when it was inconvenient? He needed the chance to work off this damned annoying frustration. Thought about hitting the gym and dismissed it. Only creepy weirdos went to the gym at such a late hour, and he'd broken enough noses this month.

He sighed, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.

There was no longer any doubt that he was highly attracted to Inoue. Hell, it was more than simple attraction. But as to when it'd happened, well… he didn't have a clue. Just that she had taken up residence in more than just his apartment and had been there for a long time.

And now that he was acknowledging it, he also had to acknowledge the fact that he didn't know what to _do_ about it. Should he make a move? Should he wait to see how things played out? What if she rejected him? That would kick the awkward factor in their apartment up a few notches.

But if he didn't decide soon, his raging hormones might just do it for him.

He rolled his eyes at the thought.

Like he'd let that happen. He could handle it. Ichigo Kurosaki didn't make decisions with his dick.

But... if he were being honest with himself, he was surprised at how much he'd already thought about it. Which was exactly why he wasn't going to trust himself to be alone with her. As long as he was careful when they were together, Inoue never needed to know. And being around her when she was vulnerable and uncertain about her future... Seemed like a bad idea to him.

Jumping the curb, Ichigo started up the steps, a tickle of anxiety working into his stomach.

There was a weird feeling scratching at his spine.

He frowned, feeling out for his friend's by reflex before focusing on Inoue's presence upstairs. It seemed relaxed and deep if not a bit disturbed. But something about it set his nerves on edge. Made him take the steps a bit faster.

Ichigo tore the key from his pocket and jammed it into the lock.

He opened the door and shut it, glancing around before heading straight down the hall, following her spiritual pressure.

The place was clean, smelled fresh with the faint scent of curry lingering in the air. Had she made him dinner? _Damn_. He should have told her he wouldn't be home.

He pushed the though aside as he reached her door, and didn't think twice about opening it, just jerked it out of his way and froze.

The light was off, but he was used to being out in the dark, and he took in the moonlit form on the bed with staggering clarity.

Her legs were tangled in the sheets, loose shirt pushed up, flashing bare skin and restless arms as she moved, fighting in her sleep. She shook her head back and forth, her spine bowing away from the bed as her body struggled gently.

A nightmare?

Standing there staring, he wasn't sure who's breathing had gotten heavier, his or hers. It couldn't be right to get so... bothered by this.

But there was something about the tugging caress of her riatsu pulling at his... He couldn't pin down the feeling. Just that his heart rate seemed to be climbing and his skin prickled. But it wasn't until he was reaching down and shaking her awake that it occurred to him what other type of dream might get her so worked up.

Her eyes fluttered open and she panted for air, gasping, not seeming as surprised as he would have thought to see him hovering over her sleeping form.

"K-Kurosaki-kun…"

He pushed back the instant thrill her husky voice caused, dumbfounded, seeing her mouth form the words, hearing the dreamy quality. Not an ounce of alarm.

Did she really trust him that much?

She shouldn't... He wasn't trusting himself very much at the moment.

Or was it him she was dreaming—_Don't, baka. Don't even go there._

His mind had to be getting foggy, because it didn't listen. He followed the movement as she licked her lips. Her fingers clinched on the sheets as her thighs pressed and rubbed together, and _dear god_, he needed to get out of here before he did something stupid.

Like find out if she was as wet as she looked. Pull the almost nonexistent clothes from her body and lay her out beneath him. Feel that soft, receptive, not quite innocent hunger for himself.

_Damn it..._

"Inoue…" He shook his head, swallowing down the claws stuck in his throat. "You're having a dream."

She blinked, unfazed, then blinked again, looking around the room with more intelligibility.

"I…" She gasped, sitting up and pulling the blankets up, chest rising and falling faster. "Oh... O_h_!"

Her eyes widened further, and she squeaked as she looked up at him.

She winced."I-I… Was I being loud?"

Ichigo shook his head, afraid to trust his voice but not seeing an alternative. "No… It was your spirit pressure."

He cleared his throat then deciding to give up, shrugged.

Visions of a partially clad Orihime writhed in his head, tangled in bed sheets, trapped and helpless to anything he wanted to—

Ichigo closed his eyes and turned away, uncomfortable in his tight jeans and thick coat.

Orihime seemed just as distressed, because she continued to fidget, chin tilted into her chest, cheeks dark.

He was just about to tell her goodnight and find a quiet place to beat his head against the wall when she spoke again.

"I found a job today."

Ichigo stopped, unsure he'd heard her right.

"At a little pub off campus, so… you should have your space back soon!"

She smiled up at him, wide, bright. Out of place.

"A pub?"

Orihime hesitated. "Y-yes."

"Isn't that just another word for bar?"

He didn't mean to sound harsh. It just came out that way. And why shouldn't he be pissed? A bar off campus is what she should have said, but she hadn't, because the obvious response to that was _no way in hell_. _Ever_.

She frowned. "No… It's a pub. They serve food. That's completely different."

Ichigo grit his teeth.

"I thought you wanted to work in a bakery. Wasn't that one of those dreams of yours or something?"

"How... How did you know that?"

How did he know? He had no idea. What the hell did that matter? She wanted to work in a bar for fuck's sake. _Inoue_. The most disaster-prone, _trouble_-prone person he knew. In a bar. With drunk college guys.

Over his dead, fucking body.

"I don't remember. You must have said something about it." He bit the words out, trying to keep them even. "Aren't you missing the point? We're both going to end up failing school, because if you work there, you can bet I'll be there too, waiting to break some drunk bastard's arm."

Orihime flushed again, and he tensed, waiting for whatever the hell she was about to say that would undoubtedly piss him off further.

"Actually… I'm thinking of taking a semester off, just until things get…" She glanced at him. "S-settled."

Ichigo wasn't sure he'd ever actually been angry with her before. He didn't like it. It wasn't the same as the detached, burning fury he felt in battle or the restless indignation when he wanted to kick someone's face through the back of their skull.

This was heavy, suffocating, _maddening, _and it made him want to pull out his hair.

"So... You're going to drop out of college?"

"It's not—"

"And start working in a bar?"

She wrinkled her nose, frowning. "I didn't say I was dropping out of college."

"You didn't need to."

Inoue slipped from the bed, holding up her hands in a peacemaking gesture and offering a tentative smile, treading water back toward safe ground. "Don't be upset, Kurosaki-kun. This way you can have your space back."

He spoke between his teeth.

"I don't want my space back, Inoue. I want you safe. And protected."

Her smile twisted into a frown. "I will be safe, and you're forgetting that I can protect myse—"

She stumbled forward and latched onto him, and the second her hand touched his arm, all bets were off.

The tiny bit of restraint holding his good judgment together snapped.

Ichigo didn't know he was thinking of kissing her until he was moving. But as her hands clutched at his chest, something like heat lightning flashed through his veins, plunging him headlong into a whirling current of fire.

Maybe she didn't think about it, maybe she had no idea the primal messages it shot straight through his brain, hell, she might've just wanted his attention.

She had it.

His hands tugged her forward as he took the half step necessary to flatten their bodies together.

Inoue gasped, eyes wide and pulse fluttering. Like a bird caught in a snare.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, teeth gritting when her lips parted.

Move forward or pull back?

Kiss her or let her go?

Damn, he was hesitating. He hated that.

The situation could still be salvaged. But she'd know he'd thought about her in a way that had nothing to do with friendship. Might even pity him for it. Damn. There was no way he could stand—

Inoue's fingers curled into his shirt. Blunt nails scraped searing trails across his abdomen, making already straining muscles jump and tighten. Ichigo almost choked, stunned as determination flashed in Inoue's face.

When the hell had she learned to look like _that_? Feisty and aggressive, and fucking _scary_ and still sexy as—

She stretched up and kissed him. Soft, the barest brushing of skin against skin, but his mind stalled. Electricity skittered along his lips and down his jaw, a jolt of awareness so vivid it bordered pain.

He shook_. A_ll the way down to his goddam _bones_ he shook, and from something so small.

What the hell? Why hadn't he kissed her before?

With her warm lips pressed to his and small hands clutching his clothes, it seemed more natural than breathing. Which he wasn't.

His eyes slid shut as he tilted his head down and leaned into it.

He could feel her heartbeat under the hand that moved up to grip her neck. Could feel all of her in the flickering thrill of her riatsu. It was something he hadn't even realized he needed until it was happening. Like stepping into sunlight. And too soon, it was ending. The delicious, addictive tremors retreated as she pulled back.

It's over?

That… That was— _Goddamn it._

His grip tightened, stopping her.

It wasn't enough.

One more and he'd stop. He'd let go. Just one more.

He pulled her back and sealed his mouth over hers.

Ichigo almost groaned at the agonizing contact, dragging out the sensation of touching her this way and committing it forever to memory. The feel of her small, soft muscles. The sweet, intoxicating smell of her skin. The subtle whimpers every time he changed the pressure of his mouth. It was like a drug.

All of it dragged him further into the charged chaos clouding his mind.

Ichigo wound his fingers into thick, copper strands, turning her face up to get better access. He took her bottom lip into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth, and almost came undone when she moaned.

Ichigo jerked back, out of breath, but so was she.

_And fuck.._. He still wanted more.

.

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**A/N**

**Longer chapter! Yay, me! :)  
**

**Okay, so why is it that even when I think it's horrible, you're all so supportive?  
**

**Abiding Angel, sweet-penelope, Time Materia , Ermilus, DeathBerryLover1995, Czexy, nypsy, Dreigo, Bobbie, Arrankor, Xtremefairy, Maresia Eterna, chibisamasempai20, MetalHead0801, AbaraiArekushisu, foxfang27, FoShizzleMySizzle, Aiasaka, SingingButterflyRose , laurikes, sunflowerspot, lDoubt , shellybee, SpringBlossom4112, Aiko1991, Vodka21, Tea In Sugar, FireCat and SnowWhite, AyakaRain, Anon , Bridge2thePast , SkinnyMoose, Snoozefest , HeartsAlign , Chuain, uzamaki898, and my beloved Star Slightly To The Right.**

******Mah~~! I love you all!** ^^ And I'm really sorry I can't reply to everyone the way I'd like to, but I'm trying really hard to get this out and polished and published as fast as possible. Please just know that I appreciate each and every single one of you that's taken time to leave encouragement. **Thank you!**  


******And omg, I'm really struggling with the next part of this and yes, it's quite a bit longer. And ahhh, just don't expect anything amazing, because I'm pretty sure I've ruined it and that it's awful and no one will liiiiike it... ٩(×̯×)۶  
**


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Chasing Paper Tigers Like Dreams

Rating: M

Warnings: Typos! Typos galore!

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Ichigo brought his other hand up, holding her still for another kiss, and his tongue pushed past her lips.

Orihime whimpered, light flashing across her vision as Ichigo tasted her mouth.

Startled, she opened her eyes, fascinated.

The scowl that betrayed his deep concentration, shoulders rigid and drawn in, palms brushing the sides of her face and the hard, flexed body under her hands.

Her skin was humming, and she let her eyes slide closed to focus on the tiny prickles racing across her in waves while his mouth worked over hers. A sweet aching. It was getting difficult to breathe, but she couldn't pull away. Sensation after sensation filled her, winding tighter in her lower belly.

She wanted him to touch her more. With every teasing, feathery-light caress of his fingers across her shoulders the need blazed hotter, searing and pulsing.

Orihime hadn't meant to grab onto him. She just didn't know her foot was tangled in the blanket, and pitched forward the last step. She couldn't have predicted his response to being touched. Ichigo had sprung like the jaws of a steel trap. With the practiced, instinctive response of a fighter. Someone used to making life or death decisions in the space of a second.

But as he hovered a breath away from her, she'd come to a conclusion.

Orihime knew the boy Ichigo had been. The rare glances when they'd been in separate middle schools, growing closer through high school, then college. But there were parts of the man Ichigo was turning into, she couldn't even begin to unravel.

Unpredictable. Unfathomable. But never unwelcome.

And if he stopped, turned and walked out, maybe she'd never get the chance. So she'd closed the distance. Taken a huge, frightening step forward.

And he hadn't turned her away.

She wanted to cry her happiness, but there just wasn't room for tears. Not with the frantic need crawling up her stomach, twisting in her brain and lighting her senses up in fiery, hot surges.

His tongue stroked down hers, firm, certain, and fixed with single-minded purpose on its goal.

Orihime whimpered, needy fingers finding their way into the orange strands at the back of his neck, tugging without thought.

Ichigo groaned against her mouth, pressing deeper, twisting sugar-sweet kisses to something hungry and desperate. His shoulders shrugged without warning, warm arms disappearing as the coat slipped off and into the floor. Then his hands were back on her, starting a new wave of chills down her spine.

Orihime was hot and trembling all at the same time.

His chest was warm and hard, and so, so _tempting_. She wanted to feel it under her hands and against her tongue. And his scent… She drew in deep breaths, trying to take in as much of it as she could while still struggling to match his kiss.

The hand in her hair untangled. It slid down the expanse of her back, urging her closer, but it couldn't have pressed her any nearer than she was already pushing herself. Fingers dug scorching trails into the flesh of her hip before his hand closed around it and she couldn't keep her body from squirming.

It didn't tickle. Not exactly. The sensation was just too intense. She couldn't _not_ move.

She struggled, whimpering.

Even as Ichigo's grip tightened, and he gave her tongue a sharp nip with his teeth.

Red-hot fire shot down between her legs, throbbing, overwhelming.

Orihime gasped against his lips, eyes flying open.

Something hard pressed into her belly and Ichigo hissed, releasing her mouth to drop his head to her shoulder. He groaned, soft against her ear.

_Was that his…_

Her legs went weak.

Orihime's hand gripped his shoulder just to keep upright, feeling the lift of powerful muscles with every heaving breath he took. Her body didn't even seem to belong to her anymore.

"Shit, Inoue... Sorry..."

Orihime shivered, relishing the caress of his breathing over the flushed skin of her neck.

For what? The bite or the kiss?

It seemed terribly important to know.

He unclenched his hands and released her, and her mind screamed in protest.

Orihime wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to hold in the almost physical pain growing in the distance between them.

Now the tears that stung her eyes couldn't be denied, and she looked down to hide them, blinking, willing them back.

He would leave now.

She knew he would. He would walk away and build a wall she couldn't climb. Things would never be the same. She'd messed it up.

"You… You don't have to be sorry, Kurosaki-kun." Orihime shifted, her throat aching worse than her agitated body as she blinked at the wetness clinging to the tips of her lashes. "I'm almost twenty two and… and I've never even…"

She didn't have the courage to finish. Could hardly look at him to catch his stunned expression.

"Never?"

She shook her head, flushing under his gaze. "That was my first kiss."

Ichigo chuckled and her face snapped up to see him rub his neck. He looked relieved.

"Mine, too."

Orihime's mouth fell open.

But he was so _attractive_. How was that possible? He'd dated. She knew he had.

He watched her with hooded eyes.

"Did you like it?"

Her heart clenched. A sweet pang behind her breastbone. Those words. That small vulnerability. The level of trust to show her such a thing.

And just like that, without feeling any less nervous, without feeling anything less at all, a comforting ease settled into her stomach and she smiled.

This was _Kurosaki-kun_. She trusted him with her life, and for good reason.

Orihime searched for the right words. "I did like it. Very much. I…" She bit her lip, dropping her eyes to the floor and rubbing her arm. "I wouldn't mind if we did it again."

Ichigo straightened.

"You wouldn't?"

She shook her head, surprised at her own audacity as nerves caused her skin to break out into gooseflesh all over again.

"Now?"

Heart pounding, she nodded.

But he hesitated. "I don't want to do anything you aren't sure about. I know you. You would—"

"Kurosaki-kun… I _am_ sure. I want to do these things. Because it's with you."

Ichigo blinked at the fidgeting girl in front of him. Tried to process her words.

It looked like Inoue, but he'd never imagined her saying anything along those lines.

"You want to… to…"

She nodded, and it still wasn't registering.

"With me?"

He didn't get it. Didn't she know she had her pick of anyone? He wasn't complaining though. Far from it. It just didn't make any sense.

Ichigo studied her, eyeing the way she kept her arms wrapped tight and her small shoulders hunched, but she still managed to meet his gaze. She was serious.

It caused a tremor of excitment to flicker in his gut along with his already well-stimulated arousal.

Ichigo took a deep breath.

"It's not a good idea, Inoue. It would make things complicated. And being in the same apartment, it'd be hard not to let it keep happening. It'd be impossible to draw the line."

Orihime crumbled in on herself, stared down at her bare feet, arms tightening.

"That's what I should say, isn't it?"

Orihime's wide eyes peered up at him. "Aren't you going to?"

He shrugged his shoulders, scowling at nothing.

"If you haven't noticed, I can be a selfish prick."

She frowned.

"Kurosaki-kun isn't selfish. He's kind. He put's other people before himself and I… I…" She looked at him. "Kurosaki-kun?"

He started at her tone."Yeah?"

"What… do I mean to you?"

Ichigo almost winced.

He didn't even know where to start to answer that question. Didn't have the words. Wasn't the right person for this kind of conversation.

"I…" He sighed and closed his eyes, thought hard as seconds ticked by, and at last, he settled for the words that kept tumbling through his mind, inadequate as they were. "_A lot_." He met her gaze. "You mean a lot to me."

She took a quivering breath, giving him a small, teary smile.

He studied her eyes, jaw tensing as he swallowed. "You should tell me if you want me to stop."

"I don't want you to."

Ichigo just shook his head. "You're crazy."

And she was putting ideas in his head. Impossible ones that he had no business thinking. But she had said all the right words. Like she _knew_ what he needed to hear.

He wanted to kiss her again…

She puffed up. "I'm not crazy, Kurosaki—"

And couldn't think of a better opportunity.

She squeaked when he pressed his lips back to hers, stopping her mock outrage cold before she went soft under his hands.

Her mouth was compliant and sweet, enticing, and he felt himself falling little by little into the heated, conceptual euphoria that touching her created.

Careful not to be too rough, not to forget the difference in strength, Ichigo let his palms drift up her arms, grasping and flexing, testing small muscles. He almost groaned at just the thought of having her under him, silky and receptive, and his body pulsed.

Touching her was a delicious torture. One that shot from his hands to his brain to his groin, tightening every muscle on the way there. He needed to slow things down. He didn't have to rush. He wanted to give her something special.

But his body seemed to be on auto-pilot.

Licking her bottom lip, Ichigo pulled away and tilted her jaw up, trailing kisses to her throat, savoring sugary, translucent skin. Her taste was light and as perfect as the rest of her. It drew him, unresisting, back for another pass.

Heat battered already shaky control, blood rushing in his ears and spots lighting behind his eyes. He swabbed his tongue across the silk-smooth curve of her shoulder before closing his mouth and sucking.

Orihime jerked, made a yelping noise, jerking him back to reality.

Panting, he pulled back to look at her, shaken by the depth of his body's insistence.

He throbbed, the length of him so hot and hard it hurt, his body clamoring for relief. It couldn't be just lust. He'd never wanted another person this way. And a part of him thought she was far too innocent to be sullied like this. But another part of him gloried in it, wanted her marked and corrupted, claimed in a way that couldn't be revoked.

Orihime's eyes drifted open as his hands slipped to her ribs, kneading them.

She was so fucking beautiful, lips wet and parted, head tilted back to give him access, still reeling from his kiss.

He shuddered.

Trailing over the delicate bones, slipping down, playing at the hem of her shirt. Ichigo hesitated giving her time to protest before pulling it up and over her body only to find she had nothing on under it. His heart tripped and an unbidden whimper left his throat.

She _slept_ this way? _Had been_ sleeping this way?

Orihime's arms wrapped around her breasts and she blushed. "I—"

"Don't." Ichigo was hoarse from the instant spike of desire. "_Please_."

Slow, agonizingly so, her arms fell away.

His mouth went dry.

He paused, watching her response, then reached up and stroked the side of one breast with his fingers.

It was so goddam soft. _All of her…_ soft and feminine and driving his senses crazy. Her husky whimper caressed his hearing, and Ichigo grazed his hand down to the underside, thumb coming up to rasp over a tight pink nipple.

Orihime's breath caught, her fingers curling into his clothes.

The hand gripping her waist tightened as he palmed the weight, squeezing with gentle pressure, careful not to hurt her.

Pure, visceral lust tore through his system, leveling coherent thought.

He couldn't take it. He needed to taste her.

Ichigo took her mouth in a hard kiss. Maybe too hard, he didn't know, had never done this before. All he had was raw instinct screaming in the back of his head, and that little, erotic whine she was making in her throat that was about to push him over the edge.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her stomach flush against his.

Orihime gasped, flooded with sensation.

Lost in it.

Never had she imagined sex would be this… this _desperate_. But it was. She _needed_ him. More than she needed anything, her favorite foods, the sleep he'd pulled her from, more than she needed air.

Her fingers twitched and she gasped as he tore his mouth from hers to string heavy kisses down her jaw to the line of her collarbone. His teeth and tongue worked over sensitive skin, kissing and nipping until she struggled against it, arching back and panting.

She raked her hands up his chest, feeling the power beneath them, the fabric bunching until she felt the first brush of hot skin searing her fingertips. Ichigo took a sharp breath.

"_Shit_…"

A quick movement and the shirt was gone. Nothing to bar her from touching as much of him as she wanted, and the inherent seductive force in him drew her. It couldn't have been intentional. Ichigo couldn't have any idea how he affected her, but it was there all the same.

Ichigo grunted, shivering as her hands traced the contours of his shoulders then around, dragging down his chest, stomach, and lower, to just below his navel.

He jerked and caught her hands when she would have kept exploring and she looked up. Did she do something wrong? Didn't he want her to touch him?

Ichigo looked amused by her expression. "Not yet."

Not yet? What wasn't she supposed to do yet?

But she forgot the next moment because he kissed her again, leading her backwards and laying her down onto the bed as a hoard of butterflies took flight in her stomach, nerves making themselves known.

The amber in his eyes was closer to fire than reflected light.

She shivered, burned by it. He wanted her. Really, _really_ wanted her.

It was almost too much.

"K-Kurosaki-kun…"

Ichigo didn't break his avid stare, although it did drop to her mouth before darting back to her eyes.

"Don't be afraid."

"I…"

Was that what it was? Was she afraid?

But looking into his face whatever it was relaxed. The knot twisting her nerves loosened and a pleasant warmth filled her from nothing more than his gently spoken command. She nodded, smiled, because there was nothing else to do. He'd told her not to be afraid, and nothing in her was willing to do otherwise.

Ichigo lifted a hand, traced her lower lip with his thumb, and his eyes softened in a way she was beginning to realize was just for her.

He leaned back and pulled her up to her knees.

Orihime went willingly, waiting to see what he would do.

He didn't look anywhere but her face, studying her, looking for resistance as he moved his hands to the waist of her sleep shorts and began sliding them down.

She went still as his hands skimmed down her thighs, almost tickling, pushing the garment away until she was naked in front of him. Then he did the same for himself and she couldn't help the flush of heat that broke out over her body.

All without breaking eye contact.

He guided her back down on the bed, arranging her over the sheets and stretching out beside her, threading fingers back into long tresses and taking her mouth in a slow, thorough kiss. And by the time he pulled back she was lost.

There was nothing like it. His lips on hers, hungry, focused, tongue licking and teasing hers, pushing in deep until he was all she could taste, all she could think or feel.

There was no hesitancy in him now. Only an unyielding, male purpose.

She whimpered as a rough hand skimmed up her leg, sending fissures of white-hot fire racing across her body. He took the sound into his mouth and returned it with a growl from low in his throat, trailing his flattened palm up over her hip then across her ribs, scorching every inch of skin along the way.

Then he broke the kiss and moved to close his mouth over a hard nipple.

Orihime arched back, cried out against the almost painful shot of electricity that flared through her system. She didn't know how her fingers found his head, but she gripped his hair, clutching him to her chest. Not that he needed any help. Ichigo didn't seem like he was likely to relinquish her any time soon.

When his hand brushed up her inner thigh, she froze, went still. Her belly clenched, feet digging down into the bed, and as terrifying as the sensations were, she didn't want them to end, desperate to know what he would do next. She'd never felt anything like it before.

Fingertips explored the sensitive, swollen flesh, running through her damp folds and her legs parted without conscious thought. Her body moved into his touch, begging, until he found what he was searching for and brushed a long digit against her entrance and up along the core of her, brushing the bundle of nerves at the peak.

He lifted his head. "Do you like this?"

Orihime fought to breathe. Nodded. Shaky.

There was something in his eyes, a lazy intensity. His smirk was dark and pleased, teasing her as he stroked it again.

"The way you look... " Ichigo swallowed, watched her arch into his hand, thought he might die from nothing more than the sight.

Wetness coated his fingers while he stroked, and when he couldn't stand it anymore, he pressed a finger deep into liquid fire.

Orihime cried out, gripped his wrist, struggling in a vain attempt to wrestle whatever feelings he caused.

He choked, groaned, imagined what it would feel like to bury his entire length into that sweltering heat.

_Damn._ He was throbbing. His erection hard and straining. _Hurting_ with the need for attention.

The effort to stay calm and deliberate took more than he wanted to admit. She was spread out, not quite under him, legs open and lean muscles tight, her fingers locked around his hand, moving with him as he pulled free and then pushed them back in, starting a slow rhythm. Her head was tilted back, mouth open in a silent cry as she panted.

He couldn't help but press his erection into her thigh, trapping the slender leg under his to keep it where he wanted it. Ichigo groaned into her shoulder, nipped the flesh there, kissing all the way back to her lips and then taking her with rough, friction inducing strokes.

He lost her mouth, hissing as he ground into a firm thigh and curled his fingers.

Orihime jerked and whined, her hips still moving with his hand.

_Shit... _

He pulled back to see her writhe, breasts heaving, legs falling wider, one hand twisting into the sheets.

Breathing hard, provoked beyond reason, he added another finger, sinking them in up to the knuckle, again and again and again.

"Ah! Kuro-Kurosaki…kun…"

She gasped, bowed back as he watched, mesmerized. Her inner muscles clenched down on his hand, her delicate spine curving as her eyes flew open in shock. Twisting, muffling another moan in her throat, she clamped her thighs around his wrist, lacing her legs around his, nails of one hand digging into his arm, still gripping the bedspread with the other, sobbing and breaking.

Ichigo didn't know how he kept from spreading her open and plunging into her wildly convulsing body. But he managed, waiting until she relaxed, letting his still moving fingers guide her back down before trailing free.

Her release had him half out of his mind.

He grasped her hips, kneading them thoughtlessly. She was so fucking warm. Wet and slick and tight. And far too ready for him.

Ichigo stroked himself with his saturated palm, gritting his teeth, coating his erection. He didn't want to hurt her more than necessary by being careless. Although, she was already soaking…

He groaned.

"Are you… Do you… still want to do this?"

God, what was he saying? Why was he giving her the chance to back out? What the hell would he do if she _took_ it?

Her eyes were dark and hazy, and she smiled. "I want this."

Something constricted in his chest, cinching tight even as something else relaxed.

He let out his breath and was over her the next second, running his hands down her flat stomach and placing the head of his erection along the length of her opening, cursing his careless urgency. He paused to gather himself, giving her hips a warning squeeze and started pushing into her.

Orihime tensed and he went still, dropping his head to rest on her shoulder, just trying to fucking _hold still_.

It was like nothing he'd imagined. She squeezed him, hot and snug, her breath catching, tickling his ear in a way that made him itch to hear all of her sounds.

He kissed her, ran his hands up her sides, over her breasts and small, hardened nipples, up her neck and into her hair, and then pressed into her further, feeling her stretch to accommodate his thickness.

She wiggled, testing the strange feel of his hardness inside her.

He ripped his mouth away from hers and gasped, panted, grit his teeth.

What the fuck was she doing to him?

He took a deep breath. "Tell me again."

She arched into him, panting, a hand clawed into his back. "I… I want this. I want you. Please… don't stop, Kurosaki-kun... I—"

Closing his mouth over hers, Ichigo gave one more push, forcing past resisting flesh, as deep as he could and still straining forward.

Orihime gave a strangled whimper, and her body squeezing tighter than a slickened fist.

It seemed wrong, experiencing the fiercest pleasure he'd ever known while she was hurting.

"_Shit_."

He gasped, wave after wave of agonizing ecstasy stabbing into his gut, twisting and knotting, flaring down his length to deeper muscles, then radiating back out in an endless cycle.

_Son of a bitch... _It felt _good_. Who knew?

He pushed the hair from her face to see her eyes.

"You okay?"

She nodded, offered a wavering smile. "It wasn't bad, I just wasn't expecting it to be… that."

He nodded, anything more intelligible eluding him when she moved her hips, experimentally flexing before a soft moan left her as her muscles bared down on him.

Ichigo growled, rocked into her, just _feeling_, elevating that fucking maddening friction.

When he was certain she was ready, he pulled out and pushed back in. A groan tore from his chest and his throat closed. He squeezed his eyes shut, couldn't think except the bare minimum to make sure he pulled back on his strength. And he was afraid of what it would turn into if he didn't get hold of himself.

Orihime wrapped around him, nails digging into his shoulders, legs fastening on his hips as she whined.

"_Hurry_… Kurosaki-kun, please… I—_I need_…"

The pleading. The desperation in her voice… _Damn it_. He'd never been able to deny her anything she'd outright asked for, and had no intention of picking now to start. With a sharp breath, he repeated the action, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in, listening to her half-moaned cries, over and over, until he was straining and gripping her waist to keep his pace steady and deliberate.

He wished he could blame the light-headedness and the tingles zipping up and down his spine on the lack of oxygen reaching his brain, but he knew that it was her. Her touch. Her body under his, squeezing him, securely gripping his oversensitive length. It all merged and mingled, drowning all thought until he was pounding into her with uneven, harsh strokes.

Orihime's voice filled his head, his name falling off her tongue again and again, nails digging into his shoulders, dragging searing trails across his back and he cursed viciously, almost losing his commitment to be gentle as lust ripped through his system.

He palmed one heavy breast, lifting it to his mouth and Orihime arched back as his tongue swabbed over the small, peaked nipple. Her ankles twisted around his back, squeezing, forcing their bodies closer.

"Fucking… Shit—"

He choked, gasped, slung an arm around her hips, hauling her off the mattress and slamming back into her. He didn't let up, bracing both of them with one arm and still thrusting into her defenseless core, again, again, not stopping or letting up until her cries became pleading sobs echoing in his ears and her fingers locked into his hair. Then Orihime tensed, stiffening under his hands as she bowed back, crying out. Her body contracted down around him, merciless and unexpected, and it took his release by force.

Ichigo gasped then hissed through his teeth, remembering to pull free at the last second, trapping his length between their bodies and releasing over her soft belly, pulse after pulse until he was spent and empty.

Groaning, he went limp, trying not to crush her, listening to the panting that filled the room as they caught their breath.

"_Fuck..._"

Orihime giggled, tickling his ears.

With a small smile of his own, he rolled off her, sitting up to examine the mess he'd made.

"Shit, let me..."

He glanced around before nicking his shirt up from the corner of the bed and using it to wipe the sticky, white smudge from her stomach then himself. When he was finished, he dropped to the bed, more exhausted than a night's worth of chasing hollows.

That had been… It was… He didn't even know. What was better than incredible?

He turned his head to look at her, suddenly wondering why she'd gone so quiet… only to find her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling softly.

He smiled at discovering another of her strange idiosyncrasies. A knack for falling asleep without warning.

This time he didn't hesitate to roll over and brush his lips across hers before pulling back, small smile still in place.

"Sleep well, Orihime."

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**A/N**

**Neeeeeeew people! So many of you I've never seen before! Ah, welcome to the party!  
**

**Renee Tanaka, sweet-penelope, foxfang27, VisceralMel, penguinwobble, DeathBerryLover1995, Tinxies, JAB9689, Arrankor, Dreigo, Czexy, sunflowerspot, FoShizzleMySizzle, khateelynn, Ermilus, FireCat and SnowWhite, kayai1995, lDoubt, Star Slightly To The Right, AyakaRain, Aiasaka, me, Aiko1991, SpringBlossom4112, Tea In Sugar, sashikibuta, Bobbie, LoVe23, Abiding Angel, Veraozao, toffeeglory, Xtremefairy, nypsy, and MetalHead0801.**

**Thank you so much for reviewing! And I really, really mean it because two of you darlings saved me from gigantic plot holes ^_^  
**

**Short lemon, but its kind of a short story so I think it fits. Lol. Anyways, I hope you liked it. It was an awkward mess and I tried to write in some fluff and you guys know how I feel about _that_. *grumble, grumble...* Still, I hope it was okay. :)  
**

**And alright, one more silly thing. I know that there are some guys out there reading this story (which can I just say how effing kick ass I think that is) But I am not a man. I do, however, write from the male POV a lot. So, if you happen to be a dude, could you maybe just drop me a line. Let me know what you think about my man writing skills and how they could improve. Please... Pretty please :) This would help me tremendously.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Chasing Paper Tigers Like Dreams

Rating: M

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Orihime scrubbed at the last spot on her back teeth before spitting into the sink. She eyed herself in the mirror, rinsed her brush and dropped it back into the holder.

Her cheeks were darker than normal, which wasn't strange; they usually were after she woke up in Ichigo's bed. But unlike every other morning, today, Ichigo had woken up _beside_ her. And despite several attempts not to ruminate on it until after some of the newness had worn off, flashes of the previous night and subsequent morning continued drifting lazily into her thoughts.

Orihime smiled.

He'd been quite adorable with a hint of red on his cheeks.

Although, that tell-tell sign of embarrassment had been covered fast enough, scowl falling back into place, even though it seemed to lack its usual severity and he looked more contented than she'd seen him in a long while.

And that was enough.

Maybe it would be more normal in this situation to second-guess her decisions or to regret them altogether. But she couldn't. If nothing else came of it, just knowing she'd helped him find some fleeting happiness… That would be enough for her. Was that selfish? She wanted him to be happy. And whatever capacity he needed filled, anything she had to give, she would offer. After all, there would never be anyone else to save herself for. There hadn't _ever_ been anyone else. Only him.

So maybe, in that way at least, she had been selfish.

And it wasn't regret she felt. Far from that. She was _glad_ it happened. They just hadn't really discussed where things stood with this new development, and the uncertainty, the feeling of being caught so completely off-balance, was disconcerting. Like the downward swing of a rollercoaster tugging at her insides.

She was confident though, whatever decision he made, she could accept.

Although that didn't make waiting easier. It also didn't mean she'd pass up the opportunity to be _more_ if it stood willing and waiting in front—

Orihime jumped as her phone vibrated in her robe pocket.

Fishing it out, she took a calming breath before stepping out of the bathroom and flipping it open, slippery fingers nearly flinging it down the hall before catching it again.

"A-Ah…! Hello?"

"Orihime-chan?"

She stiffened.

"…Owner-san." Orihime licked her lips, reaching up to steady the phone to her ear with both hands. Why hadn't she checked the number_…_? "H-How are you feeling? Is there something I forgot? I can come by and pick it up."

He laughed, the raspy timber of his elderly voice tickling her ears.

"No, no, Orihime-chan, it's nothing like that. I am stronger now, child, you worry too much about an old man." He chuckled again before quieting. "I was surprised to hear what happened between your young friend and my son. Very disappointing, Orihime-chan."

Orihime swallowed, not sure how to respond. She had truly loved working for the elder Ijimekko if not the younger.

"But to lose my best worker over such a trifle. It is a shame…"

"I understand, Owner-san. And… And I'm very sorry—"

"I want you to come back to work, child. These are not your usual behaviors, but the result of bad influences, yes? This small matter of disrespect can be overlooked."

Her mouth opened several times before forming sound. "Disrespect…?"

"Provided, of course, you are willing to make apologies, we will put this behind us and get Orihime-chan back to work! My customers, Orihime-chan, they are missing your smile." He laughed again.

Orihime blinked.

She had no idea what he was talking about. Just what had Ijimekko told him?

But the opportunity return to work… _To have her old job back_…

She swallowed. "I understand. You want me to apologize to Ijimekko-san."

"Not just Ijimekko. It should be to the entire shop, Orihime-chan. It wouldn't do to have my employees think such insolent actions will go unpunished."

"…I see." She took a deep breath. "When would you like me to come by?"

"Today, Orihime-chan. And then tomorrow you can be prepared to work hard!"

He gave another hearty laugh before the bidding a cheery goodbye as the line disconnected.

She looked at her phone.

"You're going to do it?"

"Eh…?"

Orihime spun to find Ichigo standing in the open door. His scowl was partially hidden behind long, spiky orange bangs, but she could see his jaw tighten. Unbidden, her eyes followed the line of his throat down the collar of his white button down and to where the strap of his messenger bag held it tight across the upper muscles of his chest.

She flushed. "Kurosaki-kun. What are you doing back…"

"I forgot something." He shut the door, dropping his bag into a chair. "You're really going to apologize to that asshole?"

"I… I need a job, Kurosaki-kun. I can't do nothing."

"There are other places to work."

Orihime closed her mouth, ducking her head.

There were, but she wanted _that_ job…

He made it sound easy. As if pride was everything, and maybe for him it was… But it just _wasn't_ for her.

"I don't mind."

Ichigo's brow furrowed more, and he stared at her as if trying to solve a difficult problem before looking away. He took a long breath and let it out. "It's your choice."

Orihime blinked up at him.

His tone of voice made it clear that he didn't _like_ that choice either. But he was willing to respect it anyway.

Her throat tightened.

"Thank you, Kurosaki-kun."

He pressed his lips, scowling. "I think you can call me Ichigo now."

She jerked. "Ah…! R-really?"

He didn't budge and she flushed under his scrutiny.

"O-Okay."

He crossed his arms over his chest, the faintest trace of pink decorating his cheeks. "Don't get so worked up about it."

She smiled, laughed, still feeling him watching her, and wondered if a heart could swell too big for a chest. It was reassuring on some level to know he was just as embarrassed as she was, even if he was less willing to show it.

But he'd gotten quiet.

She swallowed the last of her laughter. "Um… What did you forget?"

A finger touched her jaw and she jumped.

"Wha—"

Ichigo tilted her face up and kissed her.

She didn't even know he'd moved.

His mouth was warm and firm, lips grazing hers, and she took a sharp breath, suddenly so aware of him and only him. He grasped her neck with one hand and tilted her head back further with the other, mastering her easily.

When he released her, the room was spinning and she wasn't quite steady on her feet.

Ichigo smirked. "That."

She blinked up, not entirely certain she would survive this new and unexpected side of him. He looked quite proud of himself.

"Oh."

"I need to go," he said, fingering a piece of her hair. "If I'm late, dad'll save me all the difficult patients again."

Orihime smiled at the face he made, stepping back and saluting. "Duty calls, Kurosaki-sensei."

He arched a brow, eyes glinting. "Kurosaki-sensei, huh? We'll have to talk about that."

She gave a nervous laugh, looking anywhere but at him. It sounded like some sort of undisclosed promise.

She shivered.

Ichigo chuckled, released her, and retrieved his bag, letting himself out with a smile and a wave.

Orihime returned it until the door closed and then dropped to the couch, boneless.

Was he planning on kissing her like that often?

She flopped over on the couch and buried her face into a pillow, whimpering until her temporary mortification passed.

_Uh…._ She didn't have time for this. She needed to get dressed and to the store. The sooner she got this over with the faster that part of her life could get back to normal.

With one last groan, Orihime rolled off the couch and went to get dressed, brushing her hair before clipping her pins to the neck of her shirt. She locked the door behind her and pocketed her newly minted key with reverence before turning to trudge down the stairs.

Was she really going to do this?

If she wanted her job back, there wasn't much choice. But it felt… shameful.

What Ichigo had done, he'd done to protect her. If she apologized, it would be the same as faulting him. As saying he'd been wrong.

She slowed then stopped on the sidewalk.

And if she censured him for defending her, wasn't that like betraying his trust?

Sighing, she hung her head, barely noticing the people passing around her.

She couldn't do it.

It wasn't _right_.

She wanted her job back, but getting it this way... No. She needed—_had_ to tell the truth. Even if it was difficult.

Orihime started again, picking up the pace, afraid to give her brain time to rethink the new plan.

Making it to the store in record time, she felt her stomach tighten as she saw the employees gathered behind the glass. The front door was propped open, waiting for her no doubt, and the owner was speaking to them, his gray hair piled into an old-fashioned bun atop his head. It was just the way she remembered it, with his crisp apron tied securely around his waist.

And behind him, his son stood.

Orihime kept her face neutral as he turned to smile at her when she entered, focusing on the much smaller man in front of him.

Ijimekko senior brightened as she entered, eyes almost crinkling, but kept his enthusiasm masked behind a serious expression. "Are you ready to offer your apologies?"

She took a deep breath. "I-I'm afraid I can't do that."

There was a murmur through the gathered employees.

The owner's face twisted. "Eh? But why not, Orihime-chan? I don't understand, then why did you come?"

His face was a mix of stunned and genuine sadness. She didn't want to hurt him, but he needed to know what had been happening in his shop, and honesty was the only decent thing she could offer him.

"I came to say…" She paused. It was harder than she'd thought.

"Orihime-chan?"

She looked into his face, the sweet, wrinkled face she'd worker for since high school as he furrowed his brow in confusion, and strengthened her resolve.

"Owner-san, when we talked on the phone, you said that Ijimekko-san had been disrespected. But that isn't true at all. The truth is that Ijimekko disrespected you, your shop, and your employees by acting inappropriately with the female staff."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Orihime-chan, what are you saying?"

She opened her mouth, but never got the chance to speak.

"I think it's obvious what's going on here." Ijimekko's eyes narrowed behind his father, his hands clasped behind his back. "Inoue-san is jealous you chose your son, instead of herself, to run your business."

He walked toward her and she had to keep her feet from stepping back.

The younger Ijimekko spread his arms to the employees, then the shop. "We don't have time for this, Inoue-san. The rest of us have been more than capable of acting like a team. But your envy corrupted you and so you set that boy on me." He nodded, sharp, confident, and glanced to his father. "But there's no need to take my word for it, otou-san. You can ask them yourself."

Ijimekko senior frowned and turned toward his female staff, waiting for anyone to speak and verify Orihime's words. They fidgeted but they remained silent.

Orihime kept her back straight, refused to waver in her conviction.

"You see? Nothing but lies."

"You're right it's nothing but lies, except _you're_ the goddamn liar."

Orihime gasped, turning to see Ichigo leaning against the wall back by the door, arms crossed. Relief flooded her chest as his eyes flicked to hers, softening before it was gone and they locked somewhere over her shoulder.

Behind her, she heard Ijimekko take a quick step back.

"It's clear to anyone with eyes that they're afraid of you."

The owner stepped forward, displaying none of the fear of his son even though he was only half Ichigo's height. "Young man, who are you? Are you the one that struck my son?"

Ichigo nodded. "My name's Kurosaki."

"Hm? Kurosaki? You Isshin's boy?"

Ichigo made a face. "Yeah…? You know him, I guess…"

The elder Ijimekko barked a hearty laugh, his stern disposition melting. "That's right! He set my hip a few years back after a bad winter. Quite the character." He nodded, a smile covering his crackled face. "A good man. So tell me, why is his son attacking mine?"

Ichigo couldn't deny he was surprised. Of all the things he had expected upon entering the shop, this wasn't any of them.

But he could see the flicker of panic in Ijimekko's eyes at his father's words, and Ichigo felt a feral grin tugging at his lips. Must not have been what he was expecting either.

"To be honest, old man, your son's kind of a bastard."

Ijimekko jerked in protest. "Hey—"

"Be quiet," the elder admonished.

"But…" Ijimekko looked between his father whose gaze hadn't wavered to Ichigo who stared right back. "But…"

"Continue."

"He's letching on the girls here and then bullying them into silence. And if you were any kind of father, you wouldn't let him keep doing it."

The older man raised an eyebrow. "That is a heavy accusation. My employees don't seem—"

Ichigo huffed. "Ask them again."

Ijimekko senior watched him a second longer before turning to the staff. "Has my son acted inappropriately toward any of you?"

No one spoke and Ichigo's fist clenched.

_Damn_. What was wrong with these—

A small dark-headed girl stepped forward. She didn't look at Ijimekko as she nodded. "It's true. We've all seen it."

He saw Orihime press a hand to her heart, lips moving in what he guessed was the girl's name before someone else spoke up and heads began to nod, mumbles of agreement echoing around the room.

_Finally_.

Ijimekko was pale as his father turned to him.

"T-That's not… It isn't—"

"Hunei."

Ijimekko straightened. "Yes, otou-san…?"

"You have made it shameful to me that I have no other heirs." The old man's eyes were hard. "So, you choose to act like a child? I will give you a child's job. Go sweep the sidewalk. I will be dealing with you soon."

"But I… I…" He dropped his head to the floor. "Y-Yes, otou-san."

Ijimekko shook as he passed, not sparing Ichigo a glance.

"Orihime-chan."

Inoue perked up. "Yes, owner-san?"

"I'd like to speak with you, child, if young Kurosaki here will spare you."

Inoue turned to look at him and he shrugged, heading out the door to watch Ijimekko begin his new job.

A few minutes later Orihime emerged, excitement dripping off her. She spared the sweeping man a quick glance before taking Ichigo's arm and almost pulling him down the sidewalk. She released him a few seconds later.

Her smile stayed fixed in place and she bounced more than walked. "Owner-san hired me back."

He glanced down at her wide smile. "That's great."

"With a promotion to associate manager."

He chuckled. No wonder she was so happy. "So Ijimekko works for you now?"

She missed a step. "I hadn't thought about that. Do you think it will be weird?"

"Nah, you can tell me if he gives you trouble."

"Kurosaki-kun—"

"Ichigo."

She turned pink.

"I-Ichigo."

She was quiet for a second and he wondered if she'd forgotten what she was going to say. When she spoke, there was no small amount of wonder in her voice.

"You came."

He scowled. "Of course I came."

"I hope your dad isn't upset."

Ichigo coughed. He hadn't actually made it to the clinic, but he didn't plan to mention that.

"It was kind of my fault you got fired by that jerk in the first place, so…" He shrugged. "I'm proud of you though."

She glanced over. "You are?"

"It took a lot of guts standing up to him by yourself that way."

They walked a few blocks before Orihime tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I guess I'll be able to move out now."

She twined her fingers together, gripping until her knuckles turned white. She gave him a wide smile.

"The promotion comes with a pay raise, so it won't be hard for me to find a new apartment." The tops of her fingers had gone purple, but she didn't seem to notice. "And… And then school will be starting again soon, so I should probably try to get in before then."

Ichigo stopped walking.

"Kurosaki-kun…?"

He reached out and pried her fingers apart, rubbing the blood back to the tips and lacing them through his own before he started walking again.

"There's no hurry, Inoue. You should wait a couple weeks. Get into your new job and classes without stressing about it."

Her mouth opened and closed, but she didn't pull away.

When she smiled, it was real. "Orihime."

"Orihime..." He glanced at her then gave the hand he was holding a small tug, starting back down the street. "Let's go home."

.

.

.

_Fin._

**A/N**

**Wow, sorry it took me so long to get this last chapter done. Life snuck up and hijacked me for a while, and then there were parts of it I didn't like and had to rewrite and whatnot, so… yeah. It's done though, hope you liked it :)**

**And okay, so I wouldn't have worried so much about the last chapter if I knew you guys would like it that much. Seriously, thank you so much for the feedback. You've helped me figure out where I was going and what wasn't working, and even though it was a short story, I really would have struggled without your input. **

DeathBerryLover1995, Renee Tanaka, Aiasaka, Czexy, lDoubt, RainingLight1, Ancientblackdragon, Tinxies, somber girl, FoShizzleMySizzle, penguinwobble, sashikibuta, Xtremefairy, foxfang27, nypsy, JustDance3Fan, sweet-penelope, it0takes0skills0to0be0me, Veraozao, bella336, VisceralMel, RoseAndTheGun94, from here to the moon, AyakaRain, sunflowerspot, Bobbie, Tea In Sugar, LoVe23, ElNegro85, LordPotter123, toffeeglory, Arrankor, Guest, halfdemonfan, Zazzy, Ermilus, partygurlz, supremekikay24, JAB9689, , can you not, CiaraFael, aquadivergent7, alice hattercandy (alice-chaaaaaan!), Nightmare Master, Guest, 17xSourxApples, Sele de la Luna and lyerlaboys1 (who I keep forgetting to mention ahh I'm sorry!)

**So what's next? I'm so glad you asked :D Next, I plan to finish All the King's Horses, complete a fic I adopted from another author, then finally start my next—and probably longest— multi-chapter story. Whew! **


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